


Slytherin Rallying

by CrowleytheSnake42



Series: Slytherin Rising [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Pride, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:25:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleytheSnake42/pseuds/CrowleytheSnake42
Summary: What if Harry fulfilled the prophecy on that very first Halloween?  Then how are both he and Voldemort still alive?  Harry is just as much a spirit as his enemy and someone takes advantage of that fact down in the Chamber of Secrets.  Now somebody else is piloting Harry's body.  Meanwhile, Severus Snape is having his own problems.  He is getting tired of Dumbledore's Gryffindor bias and is extremely displeased with having to babysit The-Brat-Who-Lived during summer break.  Although, the Brat has been acting strangely...In which Salazar Slytherin was screwed over by history and the other Founders before a certain castle gives him a second chance to show the world who he truly is.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, basically I wanted to write a fanfic in which I prove why Slytherin (including Salazar Slytherin) is not evil.
> 
> Warnings: This will probably be one of the darker chapters for a while. It contains references to torture and a non-graphic description of suicide. This is the major character death and if you read the summary you can guess how permanent it is.

Speech Forms: 'Normal Speech'  **'Parseltongue'** _'Thoughts'_

 

 

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chamber of Secrets- May 995 AD**

 

Two men were fighting.  Blades clashed. Curses flew.  Magic swirled. One man was large and muscular, course ginger hair and beard especially vibrant in the torchlight.  His brown eyes were dark behind the grimace on his face and his hands clenched both a wand and a brilliant ruby studded sword.  The other man, much younger, was small and lean; he darted around nimbly, skillfully dodging his opponent’s attacks. Silky dark hair fell over brilliant green eyes as his face twisted into a bitter scowl.  He blocked his enemy’s sword with his dagger while simultaneously casting a hex with the wand in his other hand.

“Enough, Slytherin!” the ginger shouted, “This has gone on long enough.  Either renounce your views or leave to promote them elsewhere!”

“But you have not even listened to me, Garrick,” the other hissed, “If you ever bothered to ask me then you might know the rumors are wrong!  I would never harm Mundaneborn! Have we not been friends for many years now — does the trust I thought we had mean nothing? And do you not trust your brother’s judgement?  You know he thinks highly of me!”

 Garrick smiled bitterly, “I know better than to listen to your silver-tongued lies — a pity that my brother is more of a fool.  It is time for you and your lies to go.”

 “Garrick,” it sounded like a plea, “I don’t know what you are talking about — I have never lied to you, to any of you!”

 “Try again, _Slytherin_ ,” the name was spat harshly, “What _haven’t_ you lied about might be the better question!”  He punctuated the statement with a vicious stroke of his sword.  Slytherin retaliated with a particularly nasty Dark hex. Garrick continued, “You deny any lies?  Then what about your past? Is Salazar Slytherin your true name? Who are — or were — your parents?  How old are you? Where are you from? Where were you taught? Why do I not already know?”

 Slytherin snarled but otherwise remained silent.  Garrick continued, “Your lack of answers leads me to think that you are not what you have led us to believe.  I have known Helga and Rowena for my entire life, and Godric is my own brother, but I had never even heard of you until fourteen years ago.  Why is that Salazar? Is it because you are hiding who you really are?” Garrick continued to question the younger man.

 “That doesn’t matter, Garrick!” Salazar cried desperately, “What matters is that someone is spreading lies about me and my beliefs!”

 Garrick laughed bitterly, “I would love to believe you, really I would.  But you have lied to us for far too long. It is time for you and yours to go.”

 “What!” he stopped abruptly, eyes narrowed, voice less confident, “What do you mean?  Are you talking about my House?” Godric took advantage of his surprise and quickly hit him with a binding spell.  Salazar cried out in pain as he fell on his side; his wand and knife slipping out of his hands. Garrick quickly cast a Patronus and his lion bounded off through the wall.  Walking over to the fallen man, he finally answered his question.

 “Yes, _Slytherin_ , I mean your House,” there was an odd twist of triumph, “I know how your children are just like you!  There will be no ridding this school of your parasitic Mudblood influence unless your whole House goes!  And I know nothing will torture you more than destroying your beloved House.”

 The younger man was openly shocked, “What…” Suddenly, hatred twisted his features, “You!   _You_ are the one spreading all the lies!  It won’t work, Gryffindor — I’ll… I’ll tell the others…” But he trailed off miserably, realizing they would never believe him.  “But what have I ever done to you?  What do I have that you do not?  I know the others respect me, but no more than they do you, much less so in fact. And you are far closer to them personally, Godric is your _brother_ , for Circe’s sake!”

 Garrick struck Salazar suddenly, a harsh blow across the face.  His own face was contorted with rage as he hissed, “Yes, you would think that wouldn’t you!  Always so ambitious, yet somehow oblivious to how much everyone reveres you! As for Godric — he has written you into my place in his will!   _I_ should be his Heir, not some worthless Mudblood weakling who cannot hold his own in a fair fight!”

 Salazar lay on the ground, his eyes closed from pain.  His face was pale and drawn as he swallowed hard. At this moment two women and a man entered the chamber and hurried towards the pair of wizards.  One woman was tall and angular; she had short, dark brown hair and striking grey eyes. She rushed towards them worriedly, lacking her usual cheerful, distracted manner.  The other woman was shorter with long, curly, blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Her beautiful features were marred by a disappointed frown. The man was very similar in appearance to Garrick, but slightly older.  As the brunette reached the two men, she spoke, “Oh, Garrick! So it is really true?”

 “I am afraid so, Rowena.” Garrick smiled sadly at her.  On the ground Salazar gave a soft choking sound.

 “I hope you do not expect us to feel pity for you, not after what you have done.” Godric hissed at him, “I really thought you were a good lad, that you would do great things.”

 Helga gave Salazar a hurt look, “Oh, Sal, how could you?”  He scowled and looked away. No one noticed the tears gleaming in his bright eyes.

 Rowena frowned at him, “I thought you were our friend.”  Salazar flinched minutely, but none of the others noticed.

 He was surrounded by his supposed friends and he had never felt more alone.

 

-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-

 

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry- Unknown Time**

 

One of the great myths of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is that the castle itself is alive.  Many have heard the rumors but very few believe them, and even less know the truth. The truth is that the castle is indeed alive and that she will protect her own.  She came into being through the Magic of her four Founders, but the Fourth in particular aided in her creation and remained her friend and Champion. She sees him now, but cannot aid him with all three of the other Founders standing against him.  Instead, she watches and Vows that one day she will set it right.

 She watches as the rotten lion takes her Champion away from his friends.  He later tells them that the "traitor" escaped. They believe him.

 She watches as her Champion is impersonated by her Enemy and tears his reputation to shreds.  He drags her Champion’s House into the dirt as well. The others and their Houses learn to shun and hate them because they believe him.  

 She watches as the tormentor visits her Champion and tortures him.  He starves him and beats him and Curses him. He tells the others that her Champion did the same horrible things and they believe him.

 She watches as the false hero degrades her Champion.  He spits curses at him, hateful insults, and tells him of his worthlessness.  She is horrified when her Champion believes him.

 She watches as the hateful one turns to mind games.  He will mock kindness and pretend to offer freedom and help.  Then he turns to anger and tortures her Champion so brutally that it is a wonder he still lives.  No one hears his sobs and screams. Her Enemy tells him he deserves to die. And her Champion believes him.

 She watches as he steals the knife.

 She watches as he waits for the other to leave.

 She watches as he writes the runes in his own blood and makes his own Vow.

 She watches as he drags the blade across his wrists.

 She watches as he dies.

She watches.  And one day, she fulfills her Vow.  She will see her Champion again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Ok, I said I'd have a schedule but I'm bad at schedules. Sorry about that. However, this fic won't be abandoned.
> 
> Please R&R and lmk what you think. Constructive criticism and grammar checking would be appreciated.
> 
> -J


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the story Harry's eyes are blue/green, in keeping with him having his mother's eyes she did too. Also I'm really sorry for taking so long.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chamber of Secrets- May 1993 AD**

“Riddle. Give me that wand.” Tom suppressed a smirk at his enemy’s bemused expression.

“Hmm,” he tipped his head to the side, “I think not.  Avada Kedavra!”

Potter fell to the ground in a flash of green light, dead, and Tom allowed himself a small smile.

Then, an outpouring of Magic washed through the room, blinding Tom.  It was like nothing he had ever experienced, yet it seemed almost familiar.  It concentrated on the fallen child and, as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished.  And Potter stood up, grinning.

“Why, hello there.  Just the man I wanted to see.”

Tom jumped.  He scrutinized the grinning child with narrowed eyes.   _ That’s not Potter. _ _ His hair wasn’t that long — and he doesn’t have a scar!  His features are sharper too, and there’s no way Gryffindor’s Golden Boy could pull off a smirk like that.   _ Tom kept his voice level, with a healthy amount of suspicion, “Who are you and what happened to Potter?”

The boy’s grin became, if possible, even wider and his eyes — his  _ green _ eyes — took on a predatory gleam.  In contrast, his speech was innocently confused, “Do you mean you don’t recognize me?  I’m wounded.”

“What?  Why ever would you expect me to know you?” Tom decided he didn’t like this — whoever.

“Hmm, I suppose you are used to seeing me in a different form.”  The boy adopted a mock-thoughtful look.

_ What is that supposed to mean? _   Tom drew himself up to his full height.  “As the heir of Slytherin, I demand that you tell me who you are!”

“Oho, the heir of Slytherin are we?” the little brat had the impudence to look offended, “Now I really don’t see how that could be possible.  Slytherin’s line died when he did.”

“What!” Tom forcibly reclaimed his composure.  “I assure you, I am indeed Slytherin’s heir. How dare you claim to know more of him than I!”  A thought occurred to him. “And you still haven’t told me who you are. A worthless Mudblood no doubt.”

By this point the brat’s grin was positively feral.  Despite his obvious supremacy, Tom was beginning to worry.  The boy spoke in a silky tone, “Oh, yes, I am indeed a ‘worthless Mudblood’ as you so eloquently put it.”  There was an obvious tone of pride in his words and Tom shuddered at the thought of anyone relishing such a lowly bloodline.  

The child spoke again, “As for who I am — I’m not sure your poor mind will survive the shock.”  He grinned cheerfully at the thought and a little shiver of fear went down Tom’s back. He hurriedly dismissed it.   _ I’m the one who ought to be inspiring fear, not him! _   “Just bloody tell me already!” he snarled viciously.   _ God, this brat has shot my composure to hell. _

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the little terror paused for dramatic effect, smirking all the while, “I am Lord Salazar Slytherin and I am very interested in how you claim to be my descendent when I know very well I never had a single child.”

_ He must be lying.   _ Tom gave voice to this thought, “You’re lying!  I’ve had enough of this!” Tom gathered his strength and reached into the child’s mind.

“No!  You can’t be!”   _ Slytherin a Mudblood! _

“I most certainly can.”

“You’re lying, you must be!”   _ There’s no way my House was founded by a filthy Mudblood! _

“Enough of this.  I have more important matters to attend to.”  The boy — Slytherin — smiled coldly. He aimed Potter’s wand at the little Weasley brat.

“Avada Kedavra.”  Several things happened at once.  A green light flashed towards the girl’s body.  Potter’s wand exploded. And Tom felt a searing pain all over his body.  He screamed in pain, cursing the boy. Then everything went black.

 

-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-SS-

 

Salazar swore nastily in Gaeilge.   _ Damn!  The stupid wand just had to go and explode! _   He eyed the devastation warily.  There was no sign of Riddle anywhere and the diary was severely singed.  The little redheaded girl — what’s her name — Ginny Weasley was lying on the ground.  He reached for her pulse and swore again. She was dead. Salazar pressed his hands to his face, breathing shakily.  He was vaguely aware that he was shaking and that something warm was trickling down his cheeks.

“Stop it! Just…” Salazar gave a strangled cry.   _ I’m not prepared for this!  I just… came back to life? _   He laughed hysterically.  _ I need a glamour, and a — a wand — and!   _

“A plan.  I need a plan.”  He took a deep breath.  Running his hands through his hair, Salazar forcibly pulled himself together.   _ Luckily, plans are my specialty. _

Before Salazar could even think about doing anything else, he would need a wand.  Hurrying over to where the boy (Tom Riddle, according to Potter’s memories) had disappeared and grinned in triumph when he found Weasley’s wand.  It was a rather poor match but he managed a competent glamour nonetheless.  _ Hopefully none of the staff will be well versed in the Sight. _   Salazar was unsure whether he would continue under Potter’s name, but he certainly wanted to be in control of the decision to do otherwise and someone noticing the glamour could easily ruin that plan.

Salazar moved back to the girl and stooped to examine the small, black book.  Wrinkling his nose at the excess of Dark Magic, he carefully slipped it into his robes.   _ This is a Horcrux!   _ he thought incredulously,  _ What kind of dim-witted fool would play around with such Magic as a child? _   He snorted contemptuously.   _ I’m sure many would say the same about me, the idiots. _

Salazar considered the child again.  He was tempted to levitate her back out of his Chamber but paranoia won out.  He didn’t want to take the chance that someone would cast  _ Priori Incantatem _ and wonder who had been using above NEWT level glamours.  A destroyed wand would not react to  _ Priori _ so Salazar gathered the main fragments of Potter’s dead wand; they would help lend credence to the story he had decided upon.  He awkwardly held the dead girl and began to drag her back towards the other Weasley.  _ Time to face the music. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will come sooner than this one. Hopefully it will also be soon :). Thanks to anyone who commented, bookmarked, or left kudos.
> 
> Please R&R,  
> -J


End file.
